The month of Ramadan has just started for millions of Muslims around the world. Around two billion people will fast between sunrise and sunset for 29 or 30 days. In today’s consumerist world, this is a feat, although one that is fading.

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar and, despite common misconceptions, is technically not a “holy” month. It is a time that Muslims consider blessed—the month in which the Quran was revealed—but it is not one of the four “sacred” months that carry particular prescriptions, such as the prohibition of war.

The Islamic calendar is determined by lunar cycles rather than solar ones. Its twelve months total roughly 354 days, making the lunar year 11 days shorter than the solar year. Consequently, the lunar calendar rotates around the solar cycle; Ramadan may start in summer, then eventually in winter, autumn, or spring.

This is not an insignificant detail. Having a lunar calendar instead of a solar implies an acceptance of unpredictability and uncertainty within the social framework. It suggests an understanding of humanity in cyclical ways. It also creates a guiding space for female energy—despite modern perceptions—as these rhythms are more closely connected with moon cycles than male cycles.

It also means that Muslims must seek constant harmony with those cycles because, according to tradition, the moon must be sighted to determine the beginning of each new month. The most established tradition within the various schools of jurisprudence—of which there are four Sunni and at least three Shia—is that each new moon must be sighted with the naked eye or, at most, with optical aid. There are other opinions holding that astronomical calculations may be used; however, despite being the method most in use today, this position has less traditional legal backing.

This seemingly small issue—the commencement and the end of each lunar month—is actually of tremendous political importance in the Islamic world. According to most Islamic legal experts, determining these dates is the prerogative of the Emir or Sultan—the political executive power. Because of that, Muslim-majority countries frequently observe two, or sometimes three, different commencement dates.

There are three main poles of influence: Saudi Arabia, Türkiye, and North Africa. Saudi Arabia uses astronomical calculations but claims to corroborate them with sightings. Türkiye uses only calculations and does not attempt to sight the moon. North Africa—especially Morocco, Mauritania, and Senegal—relies on eye sightings exclusively, even if they use astronomical calculations as a guide. There are other considerations, like the validity of a global versus a local sighting, but they are of secondary importance to the geopolitical divide.

Every year, this leads to what “Muslim X” calls the “moon wars”: heated debates about which method is “correct.” But beyond the curiosity for casual observers, the side countries and communities take says a lot about the current political climate of the global Muslim community.

Take the UAE, for example. Every year since its creation, it has followed Saudi Arabia’s calendar. This implies a recognition of Saudi Arabia as a religious authority—a title the Kingdom claims due to its control over the Haramain (Makkah and Medina). But this year, in the buildup to Ramadan, several voices within the UAE raised questions about following Saudi.

The argument was that despite the astronomical birth of the moon, it would be impossible to sight the new moon from Saudi territory on the date they claimed Ramadan would start. And those voices were correct. Sighting the new moon as soon as it is born is extremely difficult—sometimes impossible—as it depends on the precise lag between moonrise and sunset. According to specialized astronomical sites, it would not be possible this year. Regardless, Saudi Arabia claimed to have seen it.

But that was actually beside the point. This has happened many times before. The point was that the UAE, for the first time, was challenging Saudi’s religious authority. And this is, of course, related to the larger conflict over regional supremacy in which they are involved. If the UAE had broken from Saudi in starting Ramadan, this would have probably signaled a difficult bridge to rebuild.

Countries in the Organization of Turkic States and the Balkans almost invariably start with Türkiye. This is due to Ottoman influence and the current political outreach of modern Türkiye. In North Africa, Algeria often seeks a different date than Morocco if it can find an excuse, and Egypt will try to accommodate Saudi unless it is a little unjustifiable, like this year.

However, considering that about 30% of Muslims live as minorities—including India’s population of over 170 million Muslims—when these minorities decide to start and finish is highly relevant to whom they consider an authoritative voice.

During the 80s, 90s, and the early 2000s, Saudi Arabia was the dominant voice because of the millions of dollars in oil revenue invested in promoting a particular version of religion. This led to proponents of Saudi Salafism (a modern literalist interpretation) arguing that Saudi Arabia was the only authentic voice of Islam because it controlled the Haramain and was the birthplace of the Prophet Muhammad.

There was a clear political agenda: to establish Saudi Arabia as the leading power in Islamic affairs. Given that about 25% of the world’s population is Muslim, this influence is not insignificant. But the strategy did not fare well for two reasons. First, because Salafism — or as it is also known, Wahhabism — contains some creeds and practices that can lead to extremes that most Muslims reject. And secondly, because they tried to make the entire Muslim population into a homogeneous mass, which is actually contrary to a main Islamic legal principle: respect for different cultural norms and customs.

Salafi ideology influenced most Muslim-majority countries to varying degrees, but two notable exceptions were Morocco and Türkiye. It was not that the ideology was absent, but it never became a primary driving force. This was due to two factors: the presence of strong competing traditions that rejected Wahhabism, and the foresight of political leaders who viewed Salafi preachers as a form of political interference. The commencement date of Ramadan became a strong symbol of this resistance.

In countries where Muslims were a minority, the situation was different. Because in most of them there was not —and there is not— a clear political Islamic authority, it was down to the local mosque or community to decide. Here the Saudi dollars showed their power, and during the 90s and early 2000s it was difficult to find local mosques or communities that would not follow Saudi commencement and end of Ramadan (and other important dates of the Islamic calendar). Only those financed by other countries, such as Morocco and Türkiye, would usually take a different stand. A few independent communities, like the one in Cape Town, South Africa, also maintained the practice of local sightings.

This last point is crucial: in reality, there is little difference if mosques follow Saudi, Türkiye, or Morocco simply because they are financed by them. The strongest opinion within Islamic jurisprudence is that moon sighting is primarily a local matter. While there are “areas of reference” (where those in the vicinity follow a confirmed sighting), the concept of a “global sighting” is not well supported historically.

This suggests that Islam has a built-in mechanism to oppose religious monopolization by any single government, supporting the local governance of affairs. However, the global standardization of culture—the expansion of the production/consumption cycle based on the needs of global finance—is also being adopted by many Muslims and Muslim majority countries. This creates a greater push for a set global calendar based on astronomical calculations to avoid disrupting the global economic cycle.